Chapter 11 #3
“Mara, darlin’, why…? How could I not see this?
” It takes him a few tries to get the words out, and the rough emotion in his voice makes me sway ever so slightly on the chair.
As if things could possibly get any worse, a gurgle sounds from my midriff, and the grip on my hips flexes in response.
“That does it,” he rasps. “You’re coming with me to the kitchen right now, and you’re going to tell me what you want to eat. ” He sweeps me into his arms.
“But Emmaline—”
“Will be perfectly safe with them while I take care of you. Right?” he calls out over his shoulder as we leave the room.
“Of course she is,” Eleanor quietly answers.
Warren’s steps slow as he looks down at me. “Are you good with that?”
“Yes,” I whisper. After our short time together, I already trust them.
“Good.” He keeps moving, and the weight of humiliation threatens to crush me.
I didn’t mean for things to turn out like this, but I never thought he would be so disappointed in me for not eating.
I thought he would be happy I was saving him money.
His jaw is tight and grim, but he’s gentle as he places me atop the kitchen counter. “Stay there.”
Feeling very small, I hug myself as he gathers food in a pile beside me. Smoked meats, fruits, a loaf of bread… Is he emptying the entire pantry?
“Pick one.”
I quickly scan the bounty and choose the first thing I see. An apple. That’s good, because I can just use my hands. I slowly reach for it, but just before my fingers touch it, he takes it. I flinch at the unexpected action so opposite his earlier concern. Is this a punishment for tricking him?
Tossing it onto a wooden cutting board, he methodically slices it, then turns to me.
“Open.” His tone and shoulders are so tense that I don’t argue.
I part my lips and accept the slice from his fingers.
He burns my mouth with his gaze as I chew, and when I swallow the last of it, he bumps another slice to my lips. “Again.”
The taste is ash on my tongue. “Are you angry?”
“At myself, yes. Never at you.”
I grab his wrist to stop the next bite. “But it’s all my fault.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not your damn fault at all.” Warren presses the fruit into my mouth and then cages me with his arms.
My heartbeat rivals the thunder from early this morning. Not because I feel threatened, but because even through the raw tumult of emotions, my body recognizes the power and heat of the man between my legs.
“I heard your reasons, and I want you to throw them out of your head this very minute. You’re my wife now, Mara Shay, and the responsibility of taking care of you is on my shoulders.
My marriage vow to you was more than just pretty words to say before a judge.
” He leans on one arm and feeds me another slice with the other.
“It doesn’t matter if you grow out of your dresses and need more.
You married a man with enough money to take care of you and a family who steps up when times get tough.
Tell me you understand.” A plea wrapped within a demand.
“I should have noticed before now. Should have damn well known. To think of you being hungry day after day while I’ve had more than my fill cuts at me. ”
“But I—”
“Listen to me.” Warren is so close his breath warms my chin with every word. “You’d never let Emmaline go hungry, would you? Never ignore her if she cried herself hoarse because she needed to eat.”
“Never!” I swear vehemently around the last apple slice. The very idea has a tear falling free. “She’s my baby, and I’m supposed to take care of her. But it’s not the same for me.”
Warren tracks the wetness with his thumb and wipes it away.
“Oh, but it is the same, wife. You’re mine, just like Emmaline is ours.
You’ve been mine from the moment I saw you, and I’ll be goddamned if you walk around hungry one more time in this house or have another birthday without any cake. Now, what do you want to eat next?”
A lump of understanding settles in my chest when I look at the food and back at him. Back into his whiskey eyes. Pain fills them, a pain so deep that it very well may reach into his soul. “Warren, I’m not…” I’m not used to someone caring about me like this. “I’m sorry.”
One long finger presses against my lips to shush me. “There’s nothing to apologize to me for. But if you can’t eat for yourself, think about our daughter. The better you eat, the better it is for her.”
My baby. I’m a terrible mother. What was I thinking? “The…the jerky, please,” I finish in a cracked whisper.
Satisfaction softens his dark gaze as he selects a piece.
“You don’t have to hold it for me.” I reach for the dried meat but somehow wind up with a mouthful of it.
“It seems I do. Until you fill out your dresses more, you’ll eat from my hand.” He takes the opportunity to slip more jerky between my lips when my jaw drops in shock. “Now be a good wife and eat some more.”
Words have never meant much to me. Truth reveals itself in what a man does and rarely in what he says.
But Warren gives me words and actions, and they’re both the same.
And the man himself is a threat to the wall of protection I’ve hidden behind for years.
With each brush of his fingers against my lips, I realize an undeniable truth.
I think I might be falling for my husband.